


Good Things Come in Threes

by MyAliasIsLynn



Category: Ex Machina (2015)
Genre: But he has a heart, F/M, FUCK, Nathan Bateman is a dick, Swearing, somewhere in there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:22:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24242749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyAliasIsLynn/pseuds/MyAliasIsLynn
Summary: Warning: LOT of swearing. Heavy usage of the F word.You are Nathan Bateman's assistant, and after he pushes you too far, he makes it up to you and then some.
Relationships: Nathan Bateman/Reader, Nathan Bateman/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 29





	Good Things Come in Threes

"You know what - you are _such_ an asshole!" You whipped around, glaring at the man you've called your boss for the past nearly three years. Normally, you could put up with his bullshit and you could give it right back, it's what he loved about you so much - what lead him to hire you in the first place. But today, he had crossed a line and had taken things way too far in his hungover state. You knew he wasn't thinking correctly, but what else was new? It had been every day lately - months of him picking petty fights with you when he was either drunk or hungover, isolating himself in areas you weren't allowed into while he was sober, and _occasionally_ having a civil conversation with you. This wasn't worth a paycheck that you couldn't even use since you only got leave during holidays - most times. It just simply wasn't worth it anymore. 

"I don't fucking deserve this, Nathan. I don't." Tears were brimming your burning eyes as your voice rose. You hoped you were making his headache worse. "I do everything you fucking ask me to, and guess what I get in return? Money that I can't fucking use? Nathan, I fucking clean up after you every day, and you bitch about the one thing out of place; I _always_ make sure I cook shit that you like for every meal - even if I hate it - and you bitch about it. Do you know who keeps your booze stocked? Because it sure as hell isn't you! Where the hell would you be if I stopped keeping that stocked up for ya'?" You asked, catching the _faintest_ glimmer of shame in his intense eyes. You weren't stopping. "About that - Guess who makes sure you _always_ wake up to painkillers and water after you get plastered? Who cleans up your bathroom when you throw up everywhere? Who drags your drunk-ass to bed every goddamn night, Nathan? Who keeps you from choking on your own fucking vomit every fucking night?!" You were yelling. He looked away from you. 

_"Fuck_ this, Nathan. This isn't worth it. You don't give a single fuck about me, and I fucking quit." You turned to leave. 

"You can't fucking quit." He yelled after you, in a second he was over to you, holding your arm so you couldn't walk away. Tears were streaming down your face. 

"Watch me, asshole." You yanked your arm away only for him to grab it again, tighter. "Get your fucking hand off of me and call the fucking helicopter. I _quit_ , Nathan." Your eyes were ice-cold. 

"I'm not fucking calling the helicopter - you are not fucking quitting." 

"Let. Go." You ripped your arm away and you stormed out. Out of the room, out of the house, with absolutely nothing but your jacket that hung by the door. There was no where to go, but you weren't staying near him. You had little direction, and the only trail you knew out here was the one Nathan would take you up sometimes, but that was better than inside the house. You followed the trail for a couple hours, until you got to where the two of you used to sit and watch the river, and you just sat on the ground and wept. You wept until you had no more tears left to cry, at which point you sat against a tree with your knees to your chest - it was so cold. Even more hours went by, though you had no way of knowing. He didn't care about you _at all,_ and he probably never did. You were stupid to stick around this long. 

Eventually, Nathan had come to find you, knowing exactly where you'd go - the only place you knew. It had ultimately been a little over five hours since you'd run off. "Come back inside." His voice wasn't as rough as it had been this morning. 

"No." You replied without even looking at him. You felt your lip trembling already and you cursed yourself for being an angry crier. 

"Y/N, there's bears out here." 

"I'd rather take my chances with them, then be near you." You spat back. 

"And what were you planning on doing when you start freezing to death, genius?" You stood up to start walking away from him, farther up the trail, when he stopped you with another hand on your arm. "Come on." 

"I don't want to talk to you, Nathan. I don't work for you anymore." 

He sighed heavily, moving his hands to your shoulders and turning you to face him. "I'll call the helicopter in the morning, alright? Just come back inside." He looked exhausted. "Come on, I know you're cold. You're shaking." 

"I'm shaking because I'm pissed." You glared at him. 

"Whatever you say." 

"And get your fucking hands off of me." You swatted at him, and he took a step away from you with his hands up in surrender, a small smirk on his lips as you pushed past him back towards the house, where unbeknownst to you, your surprise waited. The reason it had taken so long for him to come after you. 

As soon as you entered, you froze, taking in the sight. Everything was dark, except for lights there were strung up everywhere, with little decorations and flowers meticulously placed, small tealight candles accompanying them. There were white rose petals scattered around the floor, and a trail leading down the hallway to your room, though you were too stunned to check that out yet. You stood frozen in the doorway, one hand covering your mouth as tears brimmed your eyes for an entirely different reason, when you felt a strong hand on your lower back, you turned to face Nathan for an explanation. 

"At your third tele-interview for this position," He began, looking at you intently. "You got nervous and told me that three has always been your favorite number, so you hoped it would go well." He explained, though you hadn't caught on. "Next week you'll have been out here with me for three years. I wanted to make it special." He smiled, and you saw something different in his eyes - something soft, tender even. 

"I asked you what your favorite color was, and you told me it was a tie between royal blue and cherry red. So last year I started searching the whole fucking internet for every royal blue, and cherry red light and decoration." He gestured to each color respectfully. "The first time we went on a hike, we came across a patch of forget-me-nots, and you told me they were your favorite flower. I asked if you were serious - you said that you were, but that your other favorite was white roses- but you _hate_ red ones because you think they're overused." 

"You don't like cake, so there's an apple pie that I burnt myself making in the kitchen. Let's go look at your room." He smiled, gesturing for you to lead the way. You gasped when you opened the door - there were even more flower petals. Your favorite book series in _hardcover,_ along with a bottle of your favorite whiskey, and a leather jacket with a _cherry red_ bow all sat on your bed. 

Nathan pointed to each item as he explained it's purpose, though you knew. "One night you told me my books were all lame as hell," You laughed through your tears at the quip. "And that I should read _these,_ because they're your absolute favorite. The first time we drank together, you told me that your favorite drink was a martini - then later that night you drank the last of my whiskey without me and told me you had a new favorite." He smiled at the memory, so did you - it was a hell of a night. "And, you told me your ex tried to impress you with jewelry, but it never worked because you're not a jewelry girl - but you _love_ leather jackets because you think they look badass." You turned to face him, his eyes softening when they met yours. "I'm not always so bad, am I?" He asked rhetorically with a sad smile. 

"Nathan, I-" You threw your arms around him, shattering like glass as you cried against his chest, his arms circling your waist and holding you tightly. "I'm sorry." You whimpered. 

"Don't be." He shook his head. "You were absolutely right about me. Fuck, Y/N, _I'm_ sorry." He whispered, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head as you held onto each other. "I'm going to try to be better, I promise. Will you give me the chance?" You pulled back from his embrace enough to look him in the eyes, your hands resting at his chest as his hand came up to caress your cheek. 

_"Last_ chance." You made sure he understood. He nodded, his hand moving back to your waist as he leaned in until his forehead was resting on yours, his eyes closed. 

"I can't lose you." His voice was so soft you barely heard him. This was inappropriate as hell for a boss and his assistant, but neither of you cared - what you had was so much deeper. 

"Then stop trying so damn hard to." You quipped with a smile. He pulled back, a smile on his lips as well. There was a moment of thick, comforting silence between the two of you as you searched each others eyes, before Nathan pulled you closer to him as your lips found each others in a kiss full of passion, and every word that the two of you couldn't quite say seemed to be understood.


End file.
